


what stranger miracles

by iihappydaysii



Series: Every Atom Belonging [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, First Kiss, M/M, Sexual Content, a little bit of pinof 1, weekend in manchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 11:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: Dan and Phil meet for the first time in Manchester and try to figure out what they are to each other. (Or why Phil believes in fate and Dan believes in free will.)





	what stranger miracles

**Author's Note:**

> titles and quotes from Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass"
> 
> this can be read on its own or as a part of the series. it's up to you. (or maybe it's not. who knows?)

* * *

“And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles”

* * *

 

Phil waited as the dense afternoon crowd bustled through the train station. His clipped fingernails dug into his palms as his heart beat a nervous rhythm against his ribs. He could see the train pulling up to the platform, could hear the mechanical shout of brakes as it came to a shuddered stop. It looked like any of the hundreds of trains that ran through this station each day, but it wasn’t just another train. This train was special.

Dan was on this train.

As the train doors opened, Phil nudged his way closer for a better look. Stranger after stranger walked off and dispersed into the mix of people until finally— _recognition_.

A young, narrow face framed with dark brown hair. His cheeks were splashed with a warm pink, that was even rosier on his lips. His eyes were dark and searching, his brow furrowed as he scanned the crowd.

_Dan._

Breathless, Phil lifted his hand and waved. Dan caught the movement and paused, their eyes meeting for the first time in person. Phil felt his legs shiver, suddenly weak, as Dan smiled. Seconds later, almost all the distance had closed between them. Years ago, he would have said they had been pulled together by an unseen force, but he was a man now. He knew better.

“Hi, Dan,” Phil said, hoping he didn’t sound too awkward or too boring or too old.

“Oh, hey, Phil. You’re actually here.”

“I said I’d be here.” Did Dan think Phil might stand him up? If only Dan knew how ridiculous that notion was…how much, how sincerely, Phil wanted to be here. How it was Phil who had worried he’d be stood up at the train stations by a boy who’d changed his mind. 

Dan rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes cast down. “I know. I just meant like you’re here-here. Like in 3D.”

“4D. I come equipped with hugs. It’s a new feature.”

Dan let out a nervous chuckle and stumbled forward. Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist, squeezing his soft sweatshirt, feeling the narrow body underneath. Dan hugged back—all gangly, soft limbs. It was easy, warm comfort spiked with the tingling nerves of something new.

“It’s a good feature,” Dan said, his voice quiet as they slowly separated from the hug.

Warmth crept into Phil’s cheeks. “So how was the train ride?”

“Long. Boring.”

“But worth it?” Worry painted Phil’s words. He really, really wanted Dan to like him. The him he was in person.

Dan smiled and washed the worry away. “Worth it. Definitely worth it.”

 

* * *

 

They’d taken a car to Phil’s house. The whole ride Dan had been tapping his foot nervously—the good kind of nervous—as they made conversation in the back seat. Talking was still good, but not as easy as it had been over Skype. There was an electric charge, little static tendrils of potential buzzing between them. 

Occasionally, Phil would lean over and bite at Dan, a playful thing, on his shoulder or near his neck. Or Phil would scratch at his arm or his knee and growl. Dan didn’t quite understand it, but he didn’t mind. There were worse ways—less cute ways—to work out a little nervous energy. 

After they climbed out of the car at Phil’s house, Phil pushed the front door open. “So this is it,” he said.

Phil had insisted on carrying Dan’s bag and Dan guessed this was one of the differences in dating a guy—if that’s what this was—“dating”. The little muscle definition Dan did have had come from helping his ex-girlfriend carry things. Not that she had needed it, or demanded it really, but it was just ‘the thing to do’, the thing his father had taught him to do. 

Dan took a tenuous breath. Would he even know how to act in this situation? His father certainly hadn’t done anything to prepare him for it.

“Whoa,” Dan said quietly, as he stepped into the quiet, empty house under the watchful gaze of its yellow and green wallpaper. “I’ve seen this in your videos so many times. Feels a little like walking onto a movie set.” It felt a little impossible, a bit like a miracle.

“Does that make me the movie star?”

Dan turned to Phil and looked at him a little too long. He had to figure out how to keep his eyes in check, how to not scare Phil away. “I am pretty starstruck.”

Phil stepped closer, and Dan held his breath. They were close, within arms reach, and Dan fought the desire to lean in. They’d just met. It was too fast, too fast could fuck things up and Dan wanted to protect this—whatever it was.

“You ready for the grand tour?” Phil cast his arm out to the side. “My house is, well, it’s basically the hotel from the Shining. You’ll understand why I’ve been so freaked while my parents have been gone.”

Dan nudged Phil’s arm as he went to stand beside him. “Don’t worry. I’m here to protect you now.”

Phil’s eyes were full of something unnameable as he looked at Dan over his shoulder. Dan hoped that by the end of this weekend, he’d be able to name whatever it was.

 

* * *

 

Dan’s bags were left in a kind of limbo in the hallway, like a physical representation of how unsure as Dan was of what room he’d be staying in this weekend, of how close to Phil he’d be permitted to get. After the ‘tour’, just when things were balancing on the edge of getting awkward, Phil suggested Starbucks and Dan agreed.

They both ordered caramel macchiatos from a glum barista, and then scouted the area for a good place to sit.

“We could sit at those tall tables,” Dan said.

Phil let out a good-natured laugh “I think we’re probably tall enough already.”

“Good call. Most of the tables are full…” They could go sit outside but it was drizzling just a little at the moment, and Dan wasn’t ready for Phil to see his poodle hair.

Phil pointed to a worn leather love seat by the window. “What about there? It looks squishy.”

“Works for me.”

They walked over to the sofa and sat down with their drinks. The overstuffed cushions had been misshapen with time and use which pushed Dan and Phil towards the center, towards each other. Dan sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his body line up so nicely with Phil’s. Somehow, it wasn’t uncomfortable being pressed together like this. He didn’t want to tug away, his usual instinct when confronted with unfamiliar touch. If anything, Dan wished he could figure out how to draw in even closer. 

“Can I tell you something?” Phil said quietly.

“Of course,” Dan replied, tensing.

“I’ve rewatched your video about four times.”

Dan snorted. “Phil Lester, get a hobby.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow, his head tilted. “And you’ve never rewatched any of my videos?”

“Uhh,” Dan felt heat pool in his cheeks. He was trying desperately not to come across this weekend as a fan who’d won a date with their favorite celebrity. He had no idea if it was working or not. “Let’s change the subject.”

Phil leaned over and gave Dan another little bite on his shoulder, and Dan leaned into him with a laugh. In seconds, they were sipping their caramel macchiatos and talking like they’d known each other for years.

_Maybe it is working…_

Their drinks were long finished when Phil stood up and chucked his empty cup in the trash can. “You know where we should go tonight?” he asked.

Dan stood up and shook his head. “No. Where?”

“Have you ever been to a SkyBar?”

“A what?”

 

* * *

 

It had been awhile since Phil had been to a skybar, but he loved it. Being up this high and looking down on everything looking so small, like toys he could pick up and move around. Phil said, “Can I have a table for two?” and the hostess smiled at him like she could feel the first date nerves trembling off him. _Is this even a first date?_

The hostess lead them to a table outside where they could overlook the Manchester skyline. The drizzle had stopped and the sun was falling, giving off a perfect dim light to take pictures. A part of Phil wanted to stop and document this moment, but another part of him, a stronger part, just wanted to live in it. Phil knew he could never remember this moment, not really. He’d only get remember to his memories of it, and each time he did, a little bit of the truth would get stripped away. No matter how he felt. He couldn’t hold on. It was science, not magic. Still, he found himself wanting to try.

They finished and Phil paid and Dan looked out over the view and asked, “Is that the Manchester Eye?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun,” Phil had said. “Especially at night.” 

“Can we go?” Dan said, excitement in his voice.

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

The night sky was full of stars, but Phil kept forgetting about them. His attention drawn to his left, to Dan. Dan’s legs were crossed at his ankles and one of his shoelaces had come untied and was flapping in the wind, which gusted stronger this high up.

Phil had always enjoyed the Manchester Eye, or the Big Wheel, as his parents had always called it. He liked looking down on the city, to the sparkling lights below like a mirror of the night sky. He was glad he’d thought to bring Dan here—to share in the stillness of this moment. 

Their bodies were pressed lightly together, side by side. There wasn’t much room in the seat, but enough that they could sit farther apart if they wanted to. Phil didn’t want to, but he wasn’t quite sure about Dan. 

_I hope he likes me too._

“It’s higher than it looked,” Dan broke the silence.

“Aw, Dan. You afraid of heights?” Phil cast a grin over his shoulder, and Dan seemed to catch it with his eyes. 

“Only if it means you’ll hold me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“But I like tempting you.”

Phil couldn’t read Dan’s tone. Dan had been making comments like that all day, and they’d said flirty things to each other online and over the phone—and there had been that one night on Skype—but he’d never been able to figure out how serious Dan was about it and, honestly, he’d been too afraid to ask. But he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Uh, Dan, I know online things are easier…different…so I don’t know, but 

when you say those things do you actually want me because I—”

Lips pressed against his. Soft and warm, a gentle touch. Phil’s heart flipped in his chest. He’d never felt that before, didn’t know what to call that feeling, to call whatever was happening, but immediately knew he needed to feel it again. He couldn’t imagine, now that he knew what it felt like, ever wanting to stop feeling it and that terrified him.

“I want you,” Dan whispered breathlessly, his eyes focused on Phil’s. “Was that okay? Are _you_ okay?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, just…my heart feels funny.”

A blush grew on Dan’s cheeks. “Good funny?”

Trembling, Phil brushed back a strand of Dan’s fringe that had been blown by the wind. “Yeah, good funny.”

Dan let out a shaky breath. “Me too.”

Phil held Dan’s hand on the way back to the house, and all Phil could think about was just how well their fingers fit together. _Do all fingers fit this well together? They should—_ Phil thought _—fingers weren’t all that different._ And yet, somehow, Dan’s seemed molded just for his. 

It was dark inside the house when they got back. Still holding Dan’s hand, Phil leaned over to Dan and whispered, “You can stay in the guest room.”

“Oh.”

“Or, if you’d like, there’s room in my bed.”

Dan’s grip tightened on his hand. “Just don’t hog the covers.”

“No promises,” Phil said quietly, and then led Dan upstairs to the bed.

 

* * *

 

Dan woke up next to Phil. For a split second, he’d forgotten where he was and who he was with, but it came back to him all at once, and his heart skipped as he drew in a sharp breath.

The night before, laughing, they’d stripped off their day clothes and tossed them together in a pile by Phil’s wardrobe. Dan had barely restrained himself from touching, from skimming his hands along Phil’s bare chest, and he had certainly failed to restrain himself from looking. Dan had caught Phil looking as well, which sent heat to all the right or wrong places. 

Dan remembered it so clearly, both of them climbing into bed together. Phil in blue pajama pants and Dan in soft black sweats. Phil had flipped off the lamp on the nightstand and there they were—alone—in the safety of darkness—their bodies separated by nothing but a few inches and the decision not to move closer. 

They had laid like that, speaking in unnecessary whispers until exhaustion slurred their words, and that decision not to move turned into fingers brushings, elbows bumping, Phil’s thumb stroking the inside of Dan’s palm, the tickle of bare toes, and the slow slide to Dan lying his head on Phil’s chest and Phil’s arm holding him tight. 

They’d drifted off like that and separated in their sleep. It was the first time Dan had ever woken up next to someone he liked. _This is so impossible_ —Dan thought— _this moment, being here with someone I’ve had a crush on for so long._ It was so impossible, like God or the Universe had been passing out cards and given him the wrong one. Cold fear gripped him. At any moment, God or the Universe could take that card back.

“Morning, Dan,” Phil said as his eyes fluttered open. His voice drowned out any of Dan’s thoughts about God and the Universe. “I’m hungry.”

“You just woke up.”

Phil smiled. “Don’t argue with me, Howell. I’m a growing boy.”

“Growing boy? You’re six foot two. You should smoke a cigarette or something. Stunt your growth.”

Phil sat up and slipped on his glasses. “I wouldn’t talk. I’ve got a feeling you’ll catch up to me one of these days.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be in an AmazingPhil video.” Dan grinned as he leaned against the wall of Phil’s bedroom.

Phil looked at him and tensed. Dan looked fantastic, at ease and relaxed, his dark hair framing his face perfectly, his thin body a lovely, sharp line down the wall.

He cleared his throat, hoping it worked to cover up his staring. “Calm your inner fanboy for a second and help me with this.” He gestured toward his tripod, which kept falling down as he tried to snap it into place while holding his camera.

“How do you not know how to set up?” Dan walked over and settled the tripod into place so Phil could snap the camera in. “This backstage pass to the AmazingPhil show is a real let down.”

“Shut up.” Phil shot Dan a glare, but there was only the good kind of heat in it. 

Dan stepped closer, a smirk curling onto his face. “Make me.”

Phil’s chest fluttered as he stepped closer to Dan and took hold of his sweater to reel Dan in. They bumped noses—letting their mouths hover just a breath apart before Phil turned the distance into kiss. It was only the second time, the first he initiated, and it was just as startling as it was the night before. Kissing Dan was like biting into an earthquake.

Dan let out a shaky breath as their mouths parted. “Do you have the questions up?”

“Yeah, their open on my laptop.” Phil swallowed stiffly. He didn’t particularly care about the Q&A they'd agreed to do. He wanted his lips back on Dan’s, wanted to back him up against the wall and just feel their way through whatever had ignited between them.

Dan slipped away from Phil’s grasp and snatched the laptop off the bed. “And you haven’t read them.”

“Nope.” Phil had vaguely seen a couple just from opening it, but he thought it would be a funnier experience if Dan read off the questions to him and he hadn’t seen them at all.

“What the fuck?” Dan’s eyes widened. “What are your fans on?”

“Don’t talk about my fans like that. They’re good kids.”

Dan shook his head with a rounded laugh. “If you saw what I’m seeing right now, your illusion would be shattered.” He cleared his throat and then read one of the questions. “Spit or swallow, Phil?”

Phil sucked in a quick, unexpected breath that made him cough. “Have some question discretion, Dan. My channel is PG-13.”

Dan laughed, rosy red growing over a couple freckles on his cheek. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

Phil took the laptop out of Dan’s hands and sat it back on the bed. “Just when the camera is running.”

“Or maybe I won’t behave and we can just edit it out.” Dan bit his lip, his cheeks growing even pinker. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the best ideas?” Phil said as he took a step back from Dan and turned on the camera.

 

* * *

 

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had,” Dan said, breathless, his whole body high and happy in way he had no memory of having felt before. 

Phil tackled him and he gasped feeling their bodies pressed close together, spread out on the floor Phil’s room. Close, wonderfully close.

Dan smiled at Phil and Phil smiled back, and Phil kissed Dan, swallowing the warm laugh that been bubbling up inside him. The kiss started close-mouthed, gentle as it had been the other times, but they were giddy from the video they’d just made together, and those gentle kisses transformed quickly into more. Into tongues slipping between loose lips, into little nibbles, into Phil kissing down Dan’s cheek, trailing hot and wet down his neck to his collarbone 

Dan tensed arching into the touch. “Phil…God, shit, Phil. Maybe we _should_ turn off the camera.”

“Don’t worry. I can edit it out.” Phil sounded gravelly and deep, all twenty-two years showing in the depth of his voice.

Dan shivered. “Just make sure you send me the footage later.”

Phil looked up at him, his red-bitten lips curling into a smile. “Need something to remember me by when you leave?”

Something cold like a shadow floated at the edges of this moment. Fear trembled through Dan. He needed that shadow gone. The shadow of _being_ gone. He needed Phil to shine some light again. “Don’t…don’t talk about leaving,” Dan managed.

Phil took his lips away from Dan’s neck and brought their foreheads together. “What’s leaving? Never heard of it,” he whispered. Dan had gotten so used to hearing that voice on the computer, hearing it on YouTube. To hear it here was, well, miraculous.

“Much better,” Dan managed a smile, letting himself fall back into the moment. “Now less talking, more kissing.”

“Jesus, Dan. I never knew you were so bossy.” Phil laughed and nipped at the freckles on Dan’s cheek.

With a sudden surge of want and heat and something Dan wasn’t sure they'd made a word for yet, Dan pulled Phil on top of him. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Immediately, Phil was kissing him. Dan was doing his best to kiss back, to touch back in the right ways. This was all new—the light stubble rubbing on his upper lip, the hardness pressing against his hip, the soaring feeling too—that was the newest. It had been nice and physical when he’d done this with his girlfriend. But this…it hadn’t been like _this._ Like happiness was a word that Phil had stitched on his body and Dan was searching for the letters with his mouth, his hands, so he could spell it out for the first time.

Phil’s hands slid under his sweater and he wanted more of it, not just because it felt good but because it _was_ good. The very, damn definition of good. 

Dan fumbled at the buttons on Phil’s shirt and Phil shrugged out of it, his shoulders rolling in this distinctly masculine way that struck Dan like a hot match. 

“Fuck,” Dan breathed as Phil pressed against him again, their bare chests sticky and tugging as they kissed.

Dan was so fucking hard—and he could feel Phil’s dick too. Phil changed position so they were lined up through their jeans. That was that—it was kisses and rutting hot and heavy against each other. Too desperate to slow down, to figure out a more dignified way of rushing toward each other.

He was young—and this was Phil Lester—and he couldn’t contain himself. Dan shouted, eyes rolling back, his fingers sliding on Phil’s sweat-sticky back as he came hard in his jeans.

“Did you just…” Phil said, sounding breathless.

Dan nodded, embarrassment creeping up on him. He hadn’t lasted at all. Hadn’t been able to keep up with this twenty-two year old man who’d for some reason decided Dan wasn’t a total loser.

“Sorry. Oh my God.”

Phil kissed him on the mouth. “Don’t apologize. If you had been another minute, I’d be right there with you.”

“Take it,” Dan whispered.

“What?”

“Your other minute.” Dan was spent but he thrust back into Phil and crushed their mouths together again. That was enough to set Phil off, like he’d let him off his leash. Phil was rock hard under his jeans, rutting against Dan’s legs, kissing at Dan’s lips and cheeks with open-mouthed abandoned. 

“Dan, oh God, yes…Dan. _Dan._ ” Phil tucked his head into Dan’s shoulder, groaning hot and deep against his neck. “ _Fuck._ ”

Dan was suddenly, unspeakably, happy he’d finished first. That he could be fully aware in this moment. This moment—this miracle of a moment— _no, not a miracle_ —Dan suddenly realized. This wasn’t a miracle. This wasn’t, couldn’t be, the product of what his grandmother had called Providence. This was his. It was theirs. A product of free will. Of choosing to be here, right now, doing _this._ No one could take this away from him because Dan would just keep choosing it.

When Dan could feel Phil’s breathing even out, Dan pushed his chin up with his fingers, so they were face to face again, and kissed Phil softly on the mouth.

“We both just came in our jeans,” Dan said. “Like a couple of teenagers.”

“You are a teenager, Dan.”

“Oh, yeah. So what’s your excuse?”

Phil swept Dan’s hair back over his ear and smiled. “You. You’re my excuse.”

 

* * *

 

They slept in the bed together again that night, but it went no further than quiet whispers and playful kisses. They laid in bed together again most of the morning watching Buffy on Phil’s laptop and eating big bowls of cereal until Phil was declaring he never wanted to see cereal ever again. “Yeah, we’ll see how that goes,” Dan had said and Phil elbowed him.

When they finally crawled out of bed and dressed, they found their way outside, playing around in Lester’s yard like a couple of kids. It had been so long since Phil had let like this. Had remembered what it was like to wear this cloak of belief in things, in fairies or magic or fate, or all three, and when you grow older and all those pieces of childhood get chipped off you. Then, one day you wake up and you’re an adult, all outlined and colored in grey. If the last four years had taught him anything, it was that belief was the price you paid to grow up. 

But as he stood here, leaning against his father’s car, laughing at the leaf that had fallen perfectly on Dan’s head, Phil realized he could name this thing between them now. He’d finally figured out what this was. It was the kind of meant-to-be that had been written in the stars long before we learned with thought and reason to water down destiny. Phil knew now what this thing between them was. It was a miracle.


End file.
